


Feathers and Flowers

by Sorashizu



Category: League of Legends
Genre: M/M, Spirit Blossom Yasuo, There is combat, Xayah is not as rebellious as usual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorashizu/pseuds/Sorashizu
Summary: It all started with a certain white-haired man.. and an oddly enticing performance
Relationships: Rakan/Yasuo
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Inhales* ALRIGHT SO First fanfic I've ever published >:) I hope you all like it!  
> I look up Rakan/Yasuo and only found 2 stories on here so I decided to make a third because I love the ship

Rakan

It was about 5:30 pm, and Rakan was preparing to perform. Winter was just extracting its roots, so it wasn’t dark yet, so the vastayan was warming up behind the stage. It was your typical slow song, but near the middle it evolved into something much quicker, which was more to Rakan’s liking. (The Ionian version of salsa if you will.) As he leaped, he tossed his cloak in the air and unfurled his wing, reflecting countless shades of gold and yellow in the mirrors. He landed as the music stopped, breathing heavily. Slow clapping was heard from behind him, and he spun; facing his best friend, Xayah.  
“Well, someone is ready for tonight.” She said simply.  
“You know it!” He exclaimed, tone completely contrasting from his friend’s. “Are you?”  
“I am!” She spoke, with a hint of a smile. She allowed a little more emotion in her voice.  
“Let’s kill it out there!” He offered a fist, which Xayah bumped reluctantly.

They walked out to a field of cheers. Whispers of their shows had reached the outskirts of Ionia, even the small town of Hakaro, which they were residing in currently. The music started, and so did they. Making an entrance, someone caught Rakan’s eyes, a man with stark white hair.  
_Is that a cherry blossom he’s using as a hair tie??_  
He thought it was quite pretty.  
“Hey, we’re on.” Xayah stated.  
Right.  
And so they danced. Every time the song changed, he would check to see if the man was still there. And every time, he was. He was paying only slight attention when the show started, but became more interested as it went on. By the penultimate song, he was enthralled.

The finale came. Rakan felt the need to impress, so he would. Looking directly at the man, they locked eyes. The white-haired man raised an eyebrow. Again, Rakan tossed his cloak into the air, and leaped, letting his wing from his side, giving it the glory it deserved. And it flashed, marigold, osage, an entire spectrum of yellow and gold. Xayah slid under him, tossing a few feather-daggers into the air. They stole the light from Rakan, transforming the warm light into a deep purple. The color danced across the walls of the stage as the feathers gained and lost altitude. Rakan landed just behind her, and bowed. Drawing a feather from his wing, he pointed it at center stage. Xayah did the same, and they created a shifting beam of light, alternating between yellow and purple. Xayah caught the falling feathers with the opposite hand, creating a fan in front of her face, and Rakan pointed a feather at his audience, the man. They held those poses, breathing heavily.

With a ghost of a smirk, that same person was the first to start clapping, everyone else soon following. Rakan grinned, and Xayah simply relaxed her posture. Rakan waved to the crowd upon making his leave. Xayah tossed a feather, a dull one, into it, and they could hear the noises of joy after a young woman caught it. They made their leave. Typically, there would be a few stragglers afterwards, and Rakan desperately hoped that would be the case today. There was a certain someone he wanted to see.

He was sweaty. The sweat itself wasn’t unexpected, but the amount of it was, and to make matters worse, it had dripped into his feathers. Not just his wing, but his chest plumage as well.  
“Whyyy?!” He groaned  
“What?” Xayah called from the room next to his.  
“Oh. nothing! See you in a few!”  
He made a quick pass over his wing and chest with a towel, and decided to do the same to his legs and armpits.  
‘Alright! I look fairly presentable!” The vastayan whispered excitedly.  
He walked out of the changing room in one of his better looking cloaks, and Xayah followed a few minutes later.  
“We’re just going to get a drink, like we always do after performances. Who are you trying to impress?”  
Not you…  
“Ah, no one! I just wanted to look a little nicer than I felt, since I was sweating a lot, heh…” He felt his face flush from embarrassment.  
“You’re a horrible liar.” She sighed.  
“I knowwww, just don’t ask please! I’m sorry..”  
She laughed. “Don’t be. Good luck.”  
Rakan was in a great mood as they walked out. He hummed, and he was grinning widely. That was until they heard it. The wind was roaring, and at the center of it, katana drawn, was just the person he came to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL here it is >:)  
> Yasuo's pov next!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW it took me a long time to learn italics tags

Yasuo

He had simply wanted a night to relax. So it was decided. He would, but how?  
A drink. He knew of a good teahouse in Hakaro, but he hadn’t been. He enjoyed tea, it had been his non-alcoholic replacement for the bottle of sake he would carry around with him, which had a seemingly endless supply of the liquid in it.  
_It’s been a good couple of months, a few drinks shouldn’t hurt._  
_You never know when to stop._ He argued with himself for about a minute, and with an audible sigh decided to let the former thought win. He deserved it, right? That thought was pondered as he trekked the few minutes there. The entrance was open and inviting, as most things were in Ionia, and he had to admit that he was a fan.

 _Lotus Tea_ was written in fluid strokes, in large print. A greeting was fired his way upon entering, and he replied somewhat cheerfully, keeping the fun energy that was spoken to him.  
“What can I get you sir?” A waiter asked kindly.  
“Sake. Weak please.”  
“You do realize you’re ordering alcohol from a tea place do you not?”  
With a smile, Yasuo admitted it. The waiter disappeared behind the kitchen doors.

The memory of earlier lodged itself into his head, even now. Surrounded by flowing wind, it echoed, refusing to be forgotten. He would honor it.  
“I will be going back to that place.” He said, simply.  
He drew a thick line in the grassy terrain.  
“Cross this line with any sort of malice, and I will rise to meet it. Realize by doing so you may be putting your life at risk. That is all.”  
He sheathed his blade, which was a lovely pink, and contrasted wonderfully with the bright white case. 

One came. Her breathing was heavy and predictable. As soon as she set her left sandal over the line, Yasuo rose. There were 4 slashes that happened in the next moment: one of them from the woman’s naginata, which whiffed horribly. Yasuo was no longer in the area he used to be, but has dashed under her legs. 2 strong, curved strokes upward, which he performed seamlessly with his blade. The Ionian symbol for rise. The wind heeded his call, and launched her into the air. He clutched his blade, and sliced upward, sending a blunt blast of air that rocketed into her; she sailed back into the group she had run from.  
_She attacked me. I’m only defending myself._ The swordsman thought, but it didn’t ease the rapidly tightening knot in his chest.  
He decided he would not be killing anyone today. _They will regroup if you let them live, and they will hunt you down. You know this._ His rational side spat, but Yasuo forced it down.  
Each time it was crossed, the offender would be quickly incapacitated. Pink flashes catching the light would be the end of many people’s malice toward him that day.

“HEY! What do you think you’re doing near my stage?? Ganging up on this poor man for no reason whatsoever??” Against his better judgement, he turned toward the voice. It was the same vastayan from the performance today, the male.  
“Do you not know who he is??” The woman who spoke was dressed better than her soldiers, and wore a scarf on her head, adorned with stars.  
“Do I need to know who someone is to help them out of a battle they can’t win??” His voice had risen in pitch.  
“He’s YASUO, you stupid bird. He is wanted for murder against his master, and he will be brought in. Stand in our way and you will be as well.” They drew their weapons, pointing them at both men now.  
Rakan cracked his knuckles.  
He whispered something to the female beside him, whatever it was he couldn’t make it out.  
He leapt towards the entire group. It wasn’t intentionally showy as he was on stage, but that didn’t make him any less naturally so… He twirled through the air, landing right in the middle of everyone. Pointing his wing into the sky, he yelled: “Up you get!” A glowing golden field was summoned underneath the avian, and as he jumped, the soldiers were shot into the air as well. Yasuo was mildly surprised by this turn of events, but decided not to waste his chance.  
In a flash, he was there. Rakan’s face, previously wearing a mask of confidence, quickly cracked, and changed to one of shock, seeing the huge amount of distance covered. Three massive strikes on Yasuo’s part, using the wind to extend his range, he sent them all careening to the ground. None of them moved. With a final click, his sword went back away, and the wind in the area had settled down.  
“A battle I can’t win, huh?” He asked flatly.  
“It wasn't just you!” The taller man replied quickly. “Now, I would LOVE an explanation of why we had to leave some unconscious people right outside.”  
_Would you like to do it over some tea?_ It was an innocent thought, he just wasn't sure why he had it. He shoved it down.  
“Well, you heard it from her, I’m Yasuo.” He froze, expecting the two to scream and run, but they just stared.  
“Who? If you’re supposed to be some famous person, I sure don’t know ya.”  
Yasuo tried and failed to stifle a giggle.  
"Infamous would be the better word." He listed off a few of his titles, ones he had heard people use to describe him in whispers of the wind. Each of them grew progressively darker.  
"Traitor."  
"Unforgiven."  
"Murderer."  
He decided to stop there. Rakan's expressive eyes told him all he needed to know. He was afraid.  
"Well, did you?" The vastayan asked meekly.  
The wind had shown its face again.  
"I did not. Not in the sense they are using it. But yes, I kill people."  
The swordsman walked off. He was foolish to think he could stay in Hakaro as long as he did.  
"Wait a minute!" It wasn't fear in his voice. Yasuo couldn't tell what it was.  
"I saved your life! You owe me!"  
A deep, thoughtful breath was taken.  
"And what-" Yasuo closed the distance between the two men, leaving his face just an inch from Rakan's. "-exactly do I owe you?"  
He wasn’t sure why he did it. Maybe it was the alcohol?  
His mouth opened, but no words came outside.  
Yasuo leaned in even further. "Well? I don't like having debts."

"Hey now." The vastayan beside Rakan prompted, as she drew a few blades from her cloak. She was easily ignored.  
Yasuo's stare tore through Rakan's defenses, or lack thereof. His gaze slowly transformed from one of slight distaste to one of genuine interest, and that's when the vastayan made his move.  
"I want you to come to my next show." He said boldly, unwaveringly.  
He decided not to question that.  
“You do know exactly who you’re getting involved with, do you not?”  
“Yes! You were honest, and I am willing to trust that!” He beamed.  
“I told you I’ve killed people. Whatever… preens your feathers I suppose. Where?”  
“Zori. Four towns over, it'll be in 2 days. Can you make that?” He asked as if he was able to reschedule.  
“..Yes, I can.”  
“Yay! See you, Yasuo!” 

The name was spoken with no hate or loathing. The swordsman liked that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back lolll


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me setting the publication date a day in the future  
> Also, I still suck at tags!

Rakan

"So, why exactly are we letting the wanted swordsman who's quite literally admitted to killing people come visit us? Care to explain, Rakan?" Xayah asked, as they were dragging unconscious bodies into the woods.  
“If I say no, will you respect that?”  
“Not in the slightest!” She shouted.  
He didn’t think so.  
“Well-” He chewed his bottom lip slightly before continuing. “-I do believe mentioning that he was honest, and I trusted him…”  
“Yes and??” She demanded. “He’s wanted! And I don’t think your trust warrants personally inviting him to be close to us when that puts us at risk as well!”  
“Well there was another reason too..”  
“And that was?”  
The bodies were set down with a thud.  
“I’m not actually sure! It was just there, uh-” He finished the sentence with unintelligible noises while running his hands through his hair.  
What was that?  
That scene, that took less than a minute to unfold, was causing him an unproportional amount of stress.  
..Then there was that certain red tint burned onto his face.  
_Nope nope, go away. Goawaygoawaygoaway._ He patted them repeatedly. It had been embarrassing enough then, he definitely did not want them to come back now.  
“I’m not sure if you’re even listening, but I’m over it already. It’s not like I could stop you anyway. The moodier vastayan stated.  
“Really?”  
“And now you decide to respond cohesively.” Rolling her eyes: Xayah continued: “And yes, I am.”  
“Woo! Let’s go alr-”  
“You’re paying, Rakan.”  
“Wh- Hey! I paid last time!”  
“Too bad, I suppose.”

A fun night was had for the two, and Rakan did indeed end up paying. He was a tad sour about it, but in the long run, he didn’t mind too much.  
“Night Xayah!”  
“Goodnight.” She smiled cheekily after that, a face she would never make had she been sober. “Byeeeeeee.” She finished. He sighed, relieved. At least he wouldn’t be the one with a hangover.

The small tingle in his chest followed him to bed, and combined with his natural cheer would typically make sleep easy after after drinking, but not tonight. An image that was thrust into his mind earlier now resided there, floating in the not-so confines of his imagination. His hair was wavy and white, that gradually shifted into a wonderful bright pink about two-thirds of the way. A lovely gradient. He wore a long blue coat, the official name he wasn’t sure of, but the inside ridges were made with a shiny bronze-like color. Atop his left shoulder sat an arm guard, divided in three. They looked as if they were made of clouds themselves. Where the coat ended, the bottom half of his pants started, another word he wasn’t sure of. Mauve in color, they looked slightly baggy. Twin shin guards sat proudly, just above his simple wooden sandals. The warm picture helped him drift off to sleep eventually.  
The swirling darkness that was sleep spat him out in a forest. Loud whooshing came from his left, so he went to check them out. It looked like Yasuo was practicing his elementalism, his sword lay idly on his hip, but the sleeves of his coat moved dynamically, following the sharp movements of his arms. Using them to slice, crescents of wind shot through the air, but never quite hit the trees he was aiming for. With an agitated growl, he plopped onto the ground.  
“Yasuo?”  
He scrambled upward, extracting the katana from its sheath.  
“R-Rakan? I have been busy practicing the sword! And what is it you’re doing here?”  
_Huh?_  
“I just saw you making wind beam things, and was going to ask you about them! They were cool looking. You didn’t touch your sword at all.”  
Yasuo was visibly wilting. “You’re wrong… Are you alright in the head?” He tried.  
“I am! And it’s alright. You don’t have to be perfect at everything you do.” He comforted.  
His blue eyes were typically hard, but they had melted. The moisture there was obvious.  
“You don’t understand! I do have to be! You aren’t in my situation.” His voice cracked while shouting those phrases, and it broke Rakan’s heart.  
“I’ll say it again. You don’t need to be perfect at everything you do.” He emphasized each word. The vastayan took a few strides forward.  
“Stop! Don’t come closer!” His right hand reached, and latched onto the hilt. He was trembling uncontrollably. The tears lining his eyes spilled over and rolled down his cheeks.  
“Too bad, you need it.” The distance was closed easily, the tall vastayan took long steps. Arms were wrapped around the poor swordsman. He was now sobbing right into Rakan’s shoulder.  
“I said… don’t get closer.” Was said between cries. His hand, previously on his blade, was now on Rakan’s back.  
“Like this?” He asked.  
Does this man really not know how to hug?  
“Yes, perfect.” Rakan responded. He willed his wing to thrum softly around Yasuo, to warm him, to comfort him.  
His cries morphed into soft snores. Yasuo’s head of hair was patted while he slept.

He snapped awake, and instantly ran to the bathroom, as if he could leave the dream behind. His hair was a mess of the day before and having a bedhead, so he fell into his daily rhythm of taking care of it.  
_Yasuo and I? No, he wouldn’t… But I-_  
He visualized a giant invisible hand to take the thoughts away and shove them into tiny boxes, never to be seen again.

Breakfast was basic one of cereal, not bad, but the basic part was heavily emphasized. He was stuck in an odd loop of thoughts, wanting, and negative pushback his brain gave him for it. So went the rest of the day. The most important thing of note that happened as they travelled was Xayah complaining about her head.  
“You drank too much!” He said simply, but with his usual energy. She simply groaned in response. Yes, it was that boring.

By the time they had reached Zori, it was a few hours past sunset. They booked rooms at the nearest inn, and went straight to bed.

"Keep your guard up!" Yasuo barked.  
They were sparring, Rakan would have been long dead if this was an actual battle. _Thock._ Strikes were delivered to his wing, side, and leg. He was using a wooden sword, but they still hurt.  
_Alright. I was going easy thinking you were going to try your new technique. If you don't want to.._  
The avian dashed, crouching to deliver a sweeping kick which the swordsman easily jumped. Elevating himself, he spun in place, delivering two kicks to his middle, which he was airborne. Both were blocked with his blade, so he hooked the same leg behind Yasuo's, and with a surprised grunt, he came toppling to the ground. Even while grounded, he held his sword up to defend himself, so Rakan decided to annoy him.  
"Keep your guard up~" He cooed, pressing a talon into his sword.  
That time, it wasn't Rakan blushing.  
"Off." Yasuo said, tracing two lines in the air, and the vastayan floated a few inches in the air before being set down.  
Blades were drawn, stances were taken, and they went at it again.

Upon awakening, he found it somewhat satisfying to have bested Yasuo in combat, even if it was a dream.  
_If he doesn’t want to ask for help, I show him he can depend on me._

Noises came from the first floor of the inn, a few shouts were heard, then glass shattering. He debated whether to go down or not, and in the end decided to, running down the stairs by threes. There stood Yasuo, and he had his hands in the air. A broken glass bottle was being pointed at him by someone who seemed drunk out of their mind.  
"You!!" The word wasn't even pronounced correctly, they were so drunk.  
"Me." Yasuo said, with his typical lax attitude.  
"Give me my money back you thieving little-" Whatever they were trying to say was cut off by a mix between a belch and cough, and Rakan didn’t need to know.  
"Nah." Yasuo smirked. “It's mine now. Besides, consider this a lesson; you were too drunk to think rationally. And I made the best of the situation." He put some emphasis on his final sentence by tossing the pouch and catching it.  
"You lost, and that's that."  
"But-"  
"Oh please, you can try to convince people otherwise, but don't try it on the person who literally saw the whole thing unfold. Your words mean nothing to me."  
"And my actions?" The drunk asked.  
"What actions?"  
Advancing, they brandished the bottle as if it were a knife, and it was sharp enough to be used to cut anyway.  
"Oh. That's a bad idea, buddy. An abysmally bad one at th-"  
Rakan couldn't move.  
His sharp ears heard Yasuo curse under his breath, and he could assume why.  
"I know just who you are." Following that is a syllable which sounded like a name, but the vastayan couldn't be sure. "And you've got a nice reward out."  
"So tell them." Yasuo grinned coldly. “Oh wait, why would they believe a Noxian? The Ionian way isn't to rush to rash judgements, even I know this.” He not-so discreetly elevated his voice.  
Murmurs among the crowd had reached a crescendo; a wailing cacophony of whispers, half of which Rakan could barely make out.  
“Noxian? Ugh.”  
“Is that man with the sword alright?”  
“In the head? Not in the slightest.”  
“Get him out!” Someone started, and the people went from crowd to mob. As the phrase was chanted, people started breaking glasses of their own. It was horrifying to watch. Slowly, the two were corralled out of the tavern, not that the people cared that an innocent person was being dragged along. The two were quite literally booted out, shoved by the group. 

Rakan leapt off of the staircase, and utilizing a bit of Lhotlan magic, made another step midair, from which ripples of gold flowed after. Careening through the air, he bundled himself up in his wing as he hit the ground rolling.  
“Rakan, what the hell?” He heard Xayah shout just before he sailed out the door. 

Yasuo, startled, immediately questioned the ball of bird.  
“Do I want to ask?”  
“Why are you being so passive!? This person literally stabbed you!” Rakan wasn’t angry, just insanely confused.”  
“Oh. He’s not worth my time. He’s not worth yours either.” He says, sidestepping a halfhearted slice.  
The avian ignored this. Drawing two feathers, he lobbed them at the Noxian. Unlike Xayah’s, his feathers were large and soft.  
Yasuo snorted as they simply wavered in the wind before falling, insanely short of his perceived mark. 

But that’s what he wanted. He shot forward, grabbing the lost feathers, and letting loose a punch that connected with a face of utter surprise. The feathers exploded into a burst of green. Rakan exploited this, kicking the man in the chest. His body connected with the side of the building with a crunch, rendering him incapacitated for the time being. 

“As if you were going to come to my performance with someone wanting to kill you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Go Rakan


End file.
